0001: Somewhere Between the Miles

People often ask me why I run.

The truth is, I don't think I have one answer anymore.

A few years ago, I probably would have said it was to get out of the house and stay fit. It sounded responsible enough. But somewhere between my first 10K and all the races that followed, that answer quietly stopped being enough.

These days, I run because it's where life seems to happen.

I've watched the sun rise over neighborhoods I would never have visited otherwise. I've explored forests, climbed mountains, and travelled to different towns and countries simply because someone decided to organize a race there.

Running has introduced me to people I would probably never have met.

Doctors. Students. Business owners. Farmers....

And retirees who somehow still run much faster than me.

The beautiful thing is that once the watch starts, none of that really matters.

Somewhere along the way, I also discovered that runners are wonderfully irrational people.

We voluntarily wake up before sunrise.

Pay money to suffer.

Celebrate losing toenails.

And somehow convince ourselves that signing up for one more marathon is a brilliant idea.

I fit right in.

Running has taught me humility in ways I never expected.

I've been beaten by hills.

By seniors.

By weather.

By my own body.

I've even travelled across countries only for the marathon to be cancelled on race morning.

Apparently, the universe enjoys reminding runners that they're not in control.

I've celebrated personal bests.

I've experienced my first DNF.

I've crossed finish lines barefoot because my shoes surrendered before I did.

I've also said goodbye to two perfectly innocent toenails that simply happened to belong to a marathon runner.

Every race has given me a story.

Even the ones that never happened.

People often think the medal is the reward.

It isn't.

The reward is everything that happens around it.

The conversations before sunrise.

The strangers who become friends before the finish line.

The trails you never knew existed.

The laughter after a terrible race.

The quiet satisfaction of doing something you once thought was impossible.

Running has quietly become my excuse to say yes.

Yes to travelling.

Yes to adventure.

Yes to meeting new people.

Yes to exploring places I'd otherwise never visit.

And yes to discovering that I'm capable of much more than I ever imagined.

Will I ever stop?

Probably not.

I'll still complain about the hills.

Promise that every marathon is my last.

Maybe lose another toenail.

Miss another PB.

Then somehow find myself pinning on another race bib a few weeks later.

Because somewhere between the suffering, the laughter, the friendships, and the finish lines...

I found my reason to run.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll find yours too.